


Decadence

by DeanRH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Islands, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanRH/pseuds/DeanRH
Summary: Dean finds himself in a tropical paradise without a care in the world.Castiel is there.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 23
Kudos: 16





	1. Day

Dean drifted awake, slow and sweet.

He breathed in the scent of flowers.

All around him, warmth and the lush colors of sunlight through green.

Wide palms spread protective boughs around his bower. Parrots chattered to each other far away in the heights of the trees, flitting back and forth.

At a little distance, the alternating dark and bright blue of the ocean peeked through the gaps.

A whispered breeze cooled his skin.

He wore little, and was bare of chest, luxuriating in a pile of silk pillows, enjoying the finery of the garden. Strawberries and dipping chocolate sat atop a small white plate set on the wooden board beside him. Bubbles burst from the silver liquid in a crystal champagne flute nearby, which he slid between his fingers and lifted, sipping from the glass. He took a strawberry between his finger and thumb, dipping it into the chocolate and popping it into his mouth, enjoying the decadent flavors bursting over his tongue, wrapped in the dark warmth of the chocolate.

He was content, and at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drifters are a unique society of people. This often means that societal rules don't really apply. Play-pretend ain't just for serious life moments (acting or sex) just 'cause you're a grownup now. It also means indulging yourself. Nobody else makes the rules now. You do.
> 
> Guidelines for cheap decadence: motel room bed (or your room, if you're not a drifter yourself) Pile up pillows/blanket sheets together. If you've got a cardboard box around, turn it over and make a dent in it, then put pillows there - lean back against it with your back against the box, arms/shoulders draping off it. This is a poor man's 'couch' since motel rooms don't always come with a seating area.
> 
> Buy a bottle of André (or whatever cheap bubble you got in your region, or ginger beer/ale if teetotal). Drink it out of a fancy glass while lounging around like royalty. Pick up strawberries (and blueberries or whatever you fancy) and make around 5 cuts into each individual strawberry. Now fan out the strawberry! Same berry, instant fancy. Melt some chocolate bars from the gas station (or your equivalent) on the hotplate/in the microwave (be careful and cover it). Now find a film, preferably a decadent one - by which I mean something like The Blue Lagoon, no cares in the world kind of stuff - while sipping your drink and enjoying your snack.
> 
> Garth's character is one of the more believable drifters in the show due to his offbeat demeanour, lack of adherence to gender norms/social norms/rigidity, and his understanding of a well-deserved evening of R&R.


	2. Night

"Mornin'," said Dean, quiet and lazy, as Castiel approached him dripping wet from his morning swim. 

Dean watched appreciatively as the droplets of water coursed down his bare chest.

He further appreciated the unreal blue of his eyes in the green cast of the bower.

"Good morning," Castiel rumbled.

"You are way too enthusiastic this early in the day," said Dean.

"Is that so," Cas said, as he crawled up Dean's body and pressed against him, his kisses cool and wet, salt tang of the sea.

"Yeah," said Dean, a little breathless, legs falling open to let Castiel press up against him.

"I find it works up an appetite," said Cas against his skin.

"Is - is that so," Dean said.

"Mm."

"I can grab you a bite."

"No, I prefer my concubine here, waiting for me, spread out like a feast for the taking," Cas said, as he thrust against him, slow and sure.

There was no time, there was all the time in the world. 

Together, they lived beyond time itself.

Dean gave himself over, and came with a soft whine against Castiel's lips, as the angel grinned and with one final thrust, a punched-out sound, he came as well, shuddering with the aftershocks.

After, Castiel fell asleep still on top of him, and Dean drifted off.

***

The sand on the beach was white, exactly as soft and fine as baby powder. The water was so clear it looked like the little boats were floating in the sky.

Closer to the shore, the sand had a slight pink tint. 

The water was an incredible blue, but never as incredible as the blue in Castiel's eyes.

He watched the angel swim, powerful strokes across the tranquil calm of the bay encircled with palm trees. His arms, his body, everything about him like a taut physical example of perfection.

Dean sighed, content.

He took a sip of his drink.

It had layers, and was six different colors.

***

Nearby, there was a waterfall in the jungle.

Dean often asked if Castiel would take him there.

"Not yet, my love," he said, ruffling Dean's hair.

"But someday?" Dean asked.

"Someday," confirmed Castiel, a promise in his eyes, and kissed him.

In the ensuing activity, Dean always forgot about the waterfall.

***

There was peace, and tranquility.

Safety. Trust. Love.

Dean slept without a care in the world.

Morning, afternoon, evening, night with its wild distant stars.

It didn't matter; he napped whenever he liked.

No schedule, no responsibilities, no time.

Everything was utterly perfect.

***

Somewhere past midnight, Dean was standing in the warm light of one of Castiel's late-night candles, beaming golden warmth from a Mason jar.

He was studying the bamboo with interest, having never taken the time to really _look_ at anything like it before, the green and growing things that lived at the slow, relaxed pace he had found here, with his angel.

Out there, in the darkness, something moved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are pink sand beaches in real life! Go ahead, look them up, they are fascinating.
> 
> Another piece of decadence, although this is more American than specific to the drifter/hobo subculture, is drinking soda through a strawberry Twizzler. Bite off both ends and you get a straw that makes the soda fizz (not to mention sugar straight to the brain).


	3. Waterfall

There was a swimming pool near the bower. 

It was one of those fancy-resort types, the ones that have all kinds of shapes to make them resemble a natural water feature.

The pool was surrounded by palms. Dean rubbed the pads of his fingertips over the jade-green tiles, wide and asymmetrical, marbled with white, easily fascinated by the texture and the uneven surface it provided.

There was another drink in his hand, something else vaguely tropical in astonishing colors, ice-cold and clouding the glass.

Somewhere, in the distance, Castiel cut through the water. 

It seemed like he was always swimming.

Dean offered a lazy smile, watching Cas in this luxurious paradise, beneath the blue of the sky, warmed by the sun.

He'd never been so happy. Or content.

His mind was free of concern or thought, and when Castiel arrived, raining kisses down on him, Dean turned toward him, his own little sun in the shade of the palms.

***

Dean woke after midnight.

He blinked, wondering what had woken him.

There was a sound, much like the one on the previous evening, out in the underbrush.

"Cas," Dean whispered, but the angel was dead to the world, snoring softly.

Dean sighed, and got out of bed, pulling on his light cotton drawstring trousers - the only clothing he'd worn in ages. Barefoot, he padded out beyond the platform and into the forest beyond.

The paths were clear and wide, lit by little torches along the ground. The sand was soft against his feet. He marveled at it, the sensation of the sand, how nice and cool it was, how pleasant it was to walk there.

The incredible beauty of the place made him slow, and stop, taking in the sight of the broad green leaves in the darkness, how the brightness of the moon turned night into day bathed in silver light.

Distracted, he reached out a hand to caress the bark of one of the trees, delighted to find that it had a pleasing texture.

Then he heard the sound again, closer now.

Dean blinked. He shook his head.

He realized this was the path that led to the waterfall.

Castiel wouldn't begrudge him a peek, would he? Besides, he'd gone to investigate -

something.

Dean vaguely remembered that was something he used to do, but like the wisp of a tail of a cloud in the tropical sky, it floated across his mind and faded before it could become substantial enough to get a grip on.

Resolutely, he pressed onward.

***

The waterfall, like everything else in this place, was beautiful.

Breathtakingly, heartbreakingly beautiful. Exactly like the kind of tropical waterfall anyone might conjure up in their dreams. The waterfall itself was incredibly tall, pouring off a cliff in a white tail of water that plunged into a pool surrounded entirely by jungle. The water was clear, there was mist in the air, bright tropical flowers among the green. The sea-scent of the ocean mixed with the heady bloom of flowers, in the perpetual mist of a rainforest cascade. 

The perfect place for a tryst.

Dean wondered why Castiel would never take him here. This was the perfect place for lovemaking, for hands wandering over bodies beneath the water, for -

There was a flash of something before his eyes, lightning-quick.

So fast, he wasn't sure what he'd seen, or that he'd seen anything at all -

_water falling._

_Water._

_Large, empty space. Cold._

Dean shivered, goosebumps raising on his skin.

"Dean?"

He turned to see Castiel approaching with a gentle smile.

"Hi, Cas," Dean said.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" Cas asked. 

"I thought I heard something."

"Did you find anything?"

Dean gave the waterfall another doubtful glance, then shook his head.

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, dropping a kiss behind his ear.

"Come back to bed, beloved."

"I - "

"Please, Dean."

"Okay," said Dean, a little unsure, now focused far more on the line of Castiel's body pressing up against his own. "Can we come back here tomorrow, though? I want to take a look around, see if I can figure out what's making that noise."

"Of course," said Castiel, and then held out his hand.

Dean took it, and went willingly.

***

The following day, they were at the swimming pool again.

This time, it was as if Castiel couldn't get enough of him, kissing him, touching him, jacking him off fast and intense as he lay next to the bright water and came all over his stomach with a groan.

Blue eyes and water, euphoria and joy and delight, and the clouds across the sky.

"Who makes my drinks?"

Castiel looked at him. They were panting on the ground together next to the pool after yet another round, as Castiel seemed insatiable today.

"What?" asked Cas.

Dean sat up, looking around.

"My _drinks_ ," said Dean. "You know. The - those tropical fruit things. Who's making them? I ain't seen another person here. Not a waiter. Not - not anybody."

Castiel sat up too, staring at him.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, where _is_ everybody?" Dean asked, gesturing toward the expanse of beach, their bower, the forest, the pool. "Isn't that a little weird?"

"I hadn't noticed."

"And the other thing," said Dean. "I'm sure - I'm _sure_ \- there's _supposed_ to be at least one more person."

"One more person where?"

"Here, with us," said Dean.

Castiel grinned.

"I don't think so, but if you wanted to try - "

"Not like that, when did you get such a perverted brain?" asked Dean, frustrated. "You've been around me way too long. No, I mean - I'm fuckin' _convinced_ \- somebody is missing."

Castiel sighed, and then wrapped his arms around Dean.

Dean leaned into it, unable to help himself, chasing Castiel's heat.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Castiel murmured into the skin of his shoulder. "The mind can play strange tricks, you know."

"I know," said Dean, eyes drifting closed, fascinated by Castiel's lips on his skin, every time like the first time.

He was lost, then, in a searing kiss, all concerns forgotten in the expanse of Castiel's love.

But somewhere, in the back of his mind, he'd noticed that Castiel hadn't kept his promise of the waterfall.

Something, somewhere, was trying to get his attention, he was sure of it.

The knowledge that the waterfall was there, pouring endless into the pool in the forest, lingered; the image was tattooed on his mind.

And for the first time he could remember, it didn't fade.


	4. Discovery

Dean may have been easily distracted, but it had woken a strange determination in him.

There was also something about Castiel that was pinging his radar oddly.

Yes, he thrilled at the angel's touch, just as he had the first time -

but this was the strange thing, he couldn't quite _remember_ the first time.

He'd wanted to remember it, intensely; that first desperation, the clash of their mouths, the feeling like lightning striking -

but whenever he thought of it, the idea moved further away.

He was determined to return to the waterfall, and if need be, to find a way beyond it.

The conviction rested in the bottom of his very soul.

***

Dean accepted the langorous kisses, the magic wrought by Castiel's hand, that pure and perfect joy.

But more and more, he sensed a deep _wrongness_ -

this wasn't him, this wasn't Castiel, this wasn't _them,_ not believably.

First off, Cas didn't talk like that. 

Secondly, he would get lost in the texture of a tree or the tiles of the pool for _hours,_ almost like -

_almost like he'd been drugged._

That night, after another session he now believed was meant to distract him and wear him out, he feigned deep sleep until Castiel slipped off into dreamland.

If he was going to feel Castiel's hands on his skin, he wanted to know they were real.

And that he was himself, which he was beginning to seriously doubt.

Under cover of darkness, Dean crept toward the waterfall.

He glanced behind himself now and again, but it seemed that Castiel hadn't stirred from their bed.

Standing in front of the waterfall now, he took a deep breath.

Silently, he waded into the water.

***

The warehouse was cold and dark. 

Dean's eyes blinked open, and the first thought he had was _pain -_

his entire body a bruise.

He coughed, spat blood. Pulled experimentally with his arms, only to find that he was strung up by his wrists, hanging there, bleeding out.

There was water pouring down from somewhere nearby. When he managed to see through his swollen eyes he saw that there was a leak in the roof, water pouring down within a few feet.

And there -

next to him, hanging from his own chains, was the likewise beaten, bruised body of Castiel.

"Cas?" Dean tried, but it only came out as a dry croak. 

He started to speak again, but blacked out with the effort.

***

The pool's water was bright and clear beneath sunny skies.

Dean woke, startled, to see Castiel swimming toward him, easy strokes and a soft, fond smile on his face.

"Bad dream?" he asked.

Dean nodded, a little frantic and confused.

"Shh," whispered Castiel, taking Dean into his arms and kissing him. "My sweetest blasphemy. I love you, Dean."

Dean stared up at Cas, willing himself to remember why he felt the intense desperation to leave, as it ebbed away from him like the tide.


	5. Motel

Dean found himself in front of the waterfall again.

"Dean. Wait."

Dean closed his eyes against the soft, tempting reassurance of Castiel's voice.

"Can't. I'm sorry, Cas."

He squared his shoulders and did not turn around.

"I love you," he said, and walked into the waterfall.

***

Blinking, woozy, Dean came to.

He heard that sound like the underbrush again and recognized it as footsteps. His mind was foggy and dark.

"Dean!" burst Sam's voice, as he rounded the corner, gun drawn.

"Sam?"

_Sam._

_of course._

"Just hang on, I'm gonna - I'll get you down," said Sam.

"Cas too," Dean managed to croak.

Sam hesitated, looking off to the side.

"Promise me, Sammy," said Dean.

"Yeah, Dean. Cas too."

***

There was a long period of darkness after that, as light moved across the world, fading in and out.

***

Dean groaned as he came to, recognizing the plywood paneling of a motel immediately.

"Dean," said his brother, rushing to his side. "Here, drink this."

Dean took the proffered cup and took a few sips, coughing.

"Whuh," he said, and Sam, ever the brilliant genius, somehow interpreted his question.

"You know the djinn queen Cas married?"

"Cah mrr - ?!" Dean gave Sam what he felt was an appropriately startled look of surprise.

"Yeah, don't you remember that?" Sam asked. "Anyway. Turns out she was kinda unhappy her husband had abandoned her and decided to feed. Found you guys after like, _three weeks_ of searching."

Dean let this slide through his addled brain like a White Castle hamburger, which was roughly how he felt.

"Nnngh?" he said.

Sam, ever fluent in Dean-hungover-speak, filled him in again.

"Yeah, you definitely should be dead," he assured his brother. "But she'd - I don't know, _tapped into_ Cas, and hooked you up together on a feedback loop. So I guess his grace kept you alive. Something about a bond, the handprint, you carrying Cas's grace inside you, which - well. I killed her, and here we are."

Dean didn't know what to say. Not that he could say much.

Instead, he passed out.

***

An indeterminate amount of time later, Dean was up and watching cartoons while his brother ferried him soup. 

"I wanted tacos," Dean frowned at yet another round of tomato basil.

"Dude, no tacos for you, _ever,_ " Sam admonished him. 

"This about that one Tuesday again?"

"Yeah, but also, you're barely keeping this soup down right now."

"Hippie."

"You do seem to be improving," said Sam drily.

"Where's Cas?"

Sam rubbed his hands on his jeans.

"He was pretty roughed up," he said. "But he only stayed here until he was sure you were okay. Took him a few days to heal up, that ordeal took a lot out of him. Haven't seen him since."

"Did he, uh," said Dean. "Say anything to you?"

_Like about my using him as a battery for my secret hopes and dreams?_

"No, now that you mention it," said Sam. "Didn't say a word. Just up and vanished."

"Sounds like Cas," said Dean, ignoring the little twinge of pain that always inspired in him.

He tried not to think of the ghost of Castiel's kisses on his lips, or the sweet words he poured into his ears while they - 

_made love -_

He could say that inside his own head, at least.

Dean huffed in annoyance and longing.

He ate his soup, and watched TV.


	6. Paradise

There was a telltale _whup-whup,_ and Cas was standing in the room.

"Sam, I - " he began, and froze when he saw that Dean was sitting up, eating soup at him.

"Dean," said Castiel, suddenly finding something very interesting on the ceiling.

"Cas," said Dean coolly, staring into his soup.

Sam cleared his throat and announced:

"So, Cas, I called you down here to let you know that your djinn queen operated a little differently from other djinn," he said. "Maybe because she was the queen, I don't know. Anyway. These djinn dreams are _shared -_ so , y'know. Maybe both of you oughtta get your heads out of your asses, I don't know."

Sam, triumphant, stood up between Cas and Dean, who were now staring at each other in shock.

"That's my cue to leave," he said, bright grin plastered all over his face, and he swanned out of the room.

***

"So," Dean prompted Cas.

He hadn't been aware that the angel could flush such a beet red color.

"So," Cas responded evasively.

"That was really you?" Dean asked.

Castiel nodded.

"Then buddy," said Dean. "What the hell are we waiting for?"

Cas's eyes climbed back up towards Dean's face as hope clearly built in them.

"You'd really - you want that - with me?"

"Hell, Cas, I thought that was _my_ fantasy, okay?" said Dean, feeling himself start to color and knowing he'd be blushing to the roots of his hair.

He decided to follow his usual instincts and throw caution to the wind.

Dean set the bowl of soup on the nightstand and lifted the comforter.

"Get in here," he said. "I know it ain't the Hilton, and this ain't paradise, but it's what I've got. If you want it."

"It will always be paradise to me, Dean," said Castiel, and without hesitation, he went.

***

Afterwards, Dean was half-asleep on Castiel's chest.

He said:

"You better fly me to Hawai'i or whatever, after all that."

"Of course, Dean," said Castiel. "Anything you wish."

"You better."

And Dean fell fast asleep.


	7. Author's Note

I'd expected this one to go on a little longer, but here we are. :) Hope you are all staying safe and well.


End file.
